


High Tide, Night Sky

by the_genderman



Series: My 2020 MCU Kink Bingo Fics [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Consentacles, Cryptids, Forest Sex, Frottage, Hydra mention, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Tentacles, cross cryptid smut, faun steve rogers, fish-man bucky barnes, non-human mating rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-22 03:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22442536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_genderman/pseuds/the_genderman
Summary: A self-indulgent cross-cryptid PWP with tentacles. Making his escape from HYDRA, a faun finds a fishy captive hidden away deep in the nearly abandoned warehouse, and takes it upon himself to free him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: My 2020 MCU Kink Bingo Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608199
Comments: 10
Kudos: 131
Collections: MCU Kink Bingo Round 4





	High Tide, Night Sky

**Author's Note:**

> 2020 MCU Kink Bingo square G-4: Character has Tentacles  
> Steve is the faun. Bucky is aquatic, kinda like the fish-man from The Shape of Water, but far more human-looking and no specific defined cryptid. He’s got scales and tentacles and is generally slightly unnerving.  
> Title is from Imogen Heap “Daylight Robbery.”  
> Edit: forgot to add this immediately upon posting because my brain is questionable, but thank you to NachoDiablo for beta'ing.

Steve crept cautiously through the massive, dim warehouse, careful not to let his hooves click against the hard floor. While fauns as a whole may tend more towards pacifism, they’re more than capable of defending themselves, and HYDRA found that out the hard way. Steve didn’t leave anyone to raise an alarm and he’d locked the door behind him when he escaped from the observation chamber, but he thought it best to move as quietly as he could while still inside the facility. Once he was out of this steel and concrete box and into the woods he could disappear, put this whole ordeal behind him. He turned a corner and froze, ears swiveling, trying to find whatever had pinged in the back of his mind.

At the end of the aisle, draped in cloth, hidden away, was something buzzing with electricity and something else that he couldn’t quite place. It was faint, nearly inaudible, but Steve’s senses had picked up on it. This was a graveyard of defunct vehicles, powerless electronics, broken weaponry that wasn’t worth refurbishing. Nothing living but himself; the building was barely considered worth setting a patrol around. Steve’s curiosity urged him on, pushed him to go find out what it could be. What was irrelevant enough to be pushed aside into this warehouse of forgotten things, but important enough to remain connected to a power source? Scanning his surroundings and ignoring the little voice of common sense that told him to get to safety, nothing was more important than that, Steve hurried cautiously towards the thing.

As far as Steve could tell, whatever was under the cloth was cylindrical in shape and roughly ten feet tall. The dusty canvas dropcloth covered the item from top to toe, swathing it in darkness but unable to hide the faint electric hum. Too faint for most humans to hear, Steve knew, but not for a faun. Checking again to make sure no one had seen or heard him, that he heard no voices, footfalls, or breaths, Steve slowly lifted the canvas.

The buzz of electricity grew a tiny bit louder. The _other_ feeling grew stronger, too, making the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck prickle. Under the concealing canvas tarp was a glass and metal cylinder, a dim tube full of murky water. A pair of panels at roughly shoulder-height glowed faintly, giving coded information to no one. Bubbles rose slowly from the bottom of the tank, keeping the water oxygenated. Was something _alive_ in there? He pressed his face to the glass and peered into the darkness. One hand brushed against a panel; a light changed unseen from solid red to a slow blink. Steve squinted, trying to see what, if anything, he could make out in the gloom. 

The light changed from red to gold.

A pair of bright, nearly luminescent blue eyes blinked slowly open. Steve gasped audibly and shied away from the tube, stumbling back and nearly falling into a set of shelves, empty except for a few cardboard boxes far more likely to hold families of mice than their original papers. Collecting himself, he found his feet again and moved back to the tube. He had to know what was in there, and why HYDRA had consigned a living creature to this desolate warehouse. 

Looking past his own reflection in the glass, Steve saw the faint outline of a humanoid figure, masked by the darkness of the warehouse and the murky water. He stepped closer, trying to get a better look. The creature floated in the tube, movement sluggish, but eyes bright and aware and following Steve. Steve placed his hand back onto the tube and watched as the creature mirrored him, fingers spread, palm pressed against the glass. The unearthly tingle wrapped itself around Steve’s spine. He didn’t know what the creature was or why it had been abandoned to this oubliette, but he just knew he had to free it.

“Can you hear me?” Steve asked, whispering as loudly as he dared.

The eyes blinked slowly and the creature seemed to nod its head.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” Steve said firmly. “I don’t know how, yet, but I _will_ figure it out.”

The creature nodded again and turned its head slowly, eyes focusing on the left-hand panel that Steve had accidentally activated earlier. The creature’s hand made a complex motion against the glass.

“Could you do that again?” Steve asked. The movement had looked like typing, like maybe the creature had watched people as they entered commands onto the panel of the tube it had been imprisoned in and memorized the sequence.

Steve watched as the creature repeated the sequence, more slowly, more deliberately. “Ok, I think I’ve got it,” Steve said confidently. Taking a deep breath, he paused briefly, hesitating only a moment, then typed in the command sequence into the panel.

A rusty hiss, a grinding of unused mechanisms, and suddenly a sound like a plugged up sink finally draining. The water level in the tank dropped quickly, flooding away and revealing the form of the creature trapped inside. The creature was bipedal and, out of the corner of the eye, could be mistaken for a pale-skinned, dark-haired human male. Viewed directly, he—Steve was assuming here, going only off of the same vague sensation of _knowing_ he had felt earlier—was distinctly inhuman, with slightly opalescent snakelike scales. He had no navel, no nipples, and no external genitalia. His body was slim and muscular with strong thighs, toned arms, and… tentacles? Steve wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real or a trick of the light, but the creature seemed to have four semi-translucent tentacles emerging from somewhere behind him; they must have been nearly invisible in the water.

The tube screeched, the glass twisted, a previously unseen seam parted and juddered open, and the creature half stepped, half fell out of the tube. Steve stepped forward to catch him, to support him as he found his strength again.

“Thank you,” the creature said quietly. Steve barely heard his words, muffled into his neck as the creature clutched his arms and fought to support himself without the water around him.

“No problem,” Steve replied, watching curiously as the tentacles retracted slowly into the creature’s back. “Take your time.”

“No, we have to go,” the creature said, shaking his head. “They’ll come, they’ll know I’m out, and I won’t go back.”

Steve paused, unsure how much he should say, and whether the creature would trust him if he knew what he had done.

The creature cocked his head, looking knowingly into Steve. “You know something; you _did_ something. They won’t be coming, will they?”

“I defended myself,” Steve said hesitantly. The creature was looking steadier on his feet with every passing second.

“Good,” the creature said. “But we should still go quickly before anyone finds out what happened here.”

“Yeah… yeah, we should,” Steve agreed. “If you can walk, I can find us an exit.”

“Lead on.”

\--------------------------

Steve looked over at his fellow fugitive again, checking in on him. As tired as Steve felt, the creature—Steve really would have to get a name for him before much longer—looked exhausted. His jaw was clenched, his eyes tight, as they pushed on silently. Steve reached out, laying his hand gently on the creature’s arm.

“How about we stop for a rest? Do you feel like we’ve gotten far enough away from them to sleep? I know it’ll be dawn soon, but we probably should rest while we have the chance,” Steve nudged, keeping his voice gentle.

The creature glanced around, scanning their surroundings. The warehouse had been hidden on the edges of a small town surrounded by camouflaging farm fields and a wide, slow river—nothing more than another boring distribution center. The fields had quickly given way to woodland that grew older and heavier the deeper they moved into it. The land, once flat, began to roll. The river narrowed as they moved upstream. Gentle hills grew into rocky slopes and the water grew swifter and narrower, cutting winding channels through the earth. Where they stood, a rocky overhang dripped with roots as the trees tried to cling onto the hillside, forming a shallow sort of a cave. He gripped Steve’s arm and pointed towards the overhang. His eyes asked the question he was too exhausted to word. 

It would be too short to stand in, but they could sit upright. Most importantly it was hidden, sheltered. Steve could gather leaves and branches, make it more comfortable. A faun could make a home in any forest. This one wouldn’t be fancy, a mere shelter of need, but it would keep them warm and give them a place to rest.

“Oh, yes, that looks good,” Steve said with a smile. “I can make it comfortable for us. You go on in and I’ll get everything we’ll need.”

\-----------

“I should probably ask,” Steve said with a laugh as he curled up next to the creature—close but carefully separate, he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, didn’t know what he had been through with HYDRA, “what’s your name? If we’re going to be on the run together, we should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Steve and, you probably already figured it out, I’m a faun.”

“I’m Bucky,” the creature mumbled. “I don’t know what humans or fauns call my kind.”

“That’s ok,” Steve replied. “I can just call you Bucky then. And I hope you sleep well, Bucky. We both need the rest.”

Bucky made a tired sound of agreement.

\---------------

It was late afternoon already when Bucky awoke, stomach growling. A brief moment of panic gripped him until he realized he wasn’t in the tank or the HYDRA facility anymore. The air here was warm and smelled green and rich like soil and decaying plants. He lay on a thick pile of leaves and pine needles in a small cave, a slanted, constructed roof of branches and leaves further sheltering him. The deep golden orange light leaked into the cave through a curtain of dangling roots. Bucky blinked into the light, rising to his hands and knees to creep forward and peer out into the surrounding woods.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” a bright voice said— _Steve’s_ voice, something in his memory told him. Bucky jerked around to locate where the voice had come from. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Steve spoke again, stepping out of the trees and into full view. He was carrying a rough-woven basket filled with a variety of wild foods. Steve dropped down and scooted into the cave to sit down next to Bucky, the tips of his horns just clearing the low ceiling. “You were sleeping like a stone when I went out and I didn’t know what you like to eat, so I brought a variety of things. Don’t worry, I ate already, so you can have as much of this as you want.”

Bucky took the basket from Steve and poked through it. A few handfuls each of different nuts, berries, edible fungi, ferns, and other plants Bucky couldn’t name off the top of his head. Not his favorites, but they were edible and he _was_ hungry. He picked out a walnut, sniffed it, cracked the shell with his teeth, and carefully extracted the meat from inside. 

“Thanks,” Bucky mumbled around the walnut.

“No problem,” Steve replied as he stifled a grin.

\--------------------

The evening passed slowly. Steve knew they’d have to move on eventually, but Bucky still looked worn out, like his long captivity had left him drained. After he had eaten, he had laid down to rest again. It seemed like it would take some time for him to regain his full strength, and Steve felt reluctant to leave him until he was sure he was in better condition. As Steve sat and watched Bucky sleep, he felt the sudden urge to brush the loose strands of hair back from his face. Bucky really was quite pretty and Steve wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Steve barely knew Bucky. He was starting to get a feel—on the run with him, the two of them depending on each other, but they were still strangers. He didn’t know where Bucky was from, where he wanted to go, where he needed to be. He didn’t know if they had anything in common besides having been captured by HYDRA. He didn’t know if Bucky, all sleek scales and water, would find a faun attractive. He couldn’t afford to develop feelings for Bucky.

Steve reached out and gently tucked the lock of Bucky’s hair behind his ear before lying down to sleep.

\-----

A little smile twitched over Bucky’s lips. He had felt how gentle Steve’s fingers had been, all the tenderness contained in that brief touch. It was nice.

\-------------------

The same sly little smile kept flicking back again and again as Bucky and Steve moved on through the woods. Bucky could read Steve’s body language and the little glances Steve would send his direction when he thought he wasn’t looking. How Steve would pay attention to what foods Bucky liked best and collect them as they traveled. How, when he had regained enough strength to trust himself in the river again, he had gone in to catch fish for them and Steve had watched him with a mixture of awe and pride and just a hint of lust as he slipped easily through the rushing water.

They built a small fire that night by their shelter. There had been no sign of HYDRA since they had made their escape, and they were far enough from human habitation that they thought it worth the risk. Steve cooked his fish over the fire, commenting on how amazing it smelled. Bucky thought it just smelled burnt, but if Steve liked it, then he wouldn’t let it bother him. Steve was good company, and not unattractive. Maybe at first Bucky had been a little unnerved by how much hair fauns had, but it was a good look on Steve. He wondered what Steve’s beard, his hair, fur would feel like against him.

\-----

That night Bucky suggested that they sleep closer together to keep warmer, he could even pull his tentacles back in so it wouldn’t feel too weird for Steve. It wasn’t _cold_ at night yet, but it was a good enough excuse. Steve agreed a hair too quickly to pretend like it was just “for warmth.” Bucky smirked to himself again.

\-----------------------

The moon was high and bright, but it was still night when Steve woke with one arm wrapped around Bucky’s chest. He wasn’t sure when he’d done it, but he certainly had done it. It didn’t entirely surprise him that this was what his subconscious wanted; what _did_ surprise him was the fact that Bucky’s fingers were curled possessively around his forearm. He gently nudged Bucky awake.

“Hmh?” Bucky asked, shifting slightly to look at Steve over his shoulder.

"So. You too, huh?” Steve asked, fingers making little circles over Bucky’s abdomen. Small scales covered his whole body except for his tentacles, a few smooth patches on his face, the palms of his hands, and the soles of his feet. Individually, his scales were silky smooth; together they made a very inviting slightly pebbly texture, so unlike fur, hair, or skin. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why didn’t _you_?” Bucky countered. “I thought fauns were supposed to be the forward ones.”

“Common misconception, that’s more of satyrs’ thing. They’re a little different,” Steve shrugged. “For fauns, it’s generally considered rude to proposition someone before getting to know them well enough.”

“And, _have_ you gotten to know me well enough?” Bucky asked, dropping his voice to what he hoped Steve would register as ‘seductive,’ or at the very least, ‘flirty.

“I dunno, what do _you_ think?” Steve flirted back, tracing his fingers in a slow line down Bucky’s belly. “Have I gotten to know you well enough to do this?”

“I think we can get a _lot_ more familiar tonight,” Bucky purred.

“Glad to hear it,” Steve murmured back, pressing himself closer along Bucky’s back.

Belying the confidence of his words, Steve hesitated a little as his hand reached Bucky’s groin. What was he supposed to do next? If Bucky had been another faun, it would’ve been simple enough—fondle his cock until he was hard. But he wasn’t sure how Bucky’s species reproduced, whether he had a cock hidden somewhere inside him or not. Whether it would be considered rude to grope and feel to try to find out if he could slip his fingers inside him.

“I may have to give you a few pointers,” Bucky grinned and pushed himself up into a sitting position, dislodging Steve and twisting around to face him. He crossed his legs and leaned back on his hands. His tentacles emerged from his back and unfurled, hanging in the air behind him like the framework of wings. “You ever been with anyone other than another faun?”

Shaking his head, Steve sat up. He spread his legs out in a broad V, bracketing Bucky and showing off. “Guess you’ll have to help me out, now, won’t you?” he teased lightly.

“Guess I will,” Bucky smirked. He rose to his knees in one fluid motion and moved one hand to his groin, fingers hovering over the slight swell and barely visible slit. “Now, unlike you mammals, we don’t keep everything on display all the time. You have to work for it. For my kind there’s usually some tentacle-play involved first—they’re _very_ sensitive when we’re in the mood—but with us, we’ll probably both have to change things up a bit from what we’re used to.”

“I’m willing to try new things,” Steve said, reaching one hand out, palm up. “This tentacle thing… what would be the first thing that we’d do?”

Bucky smiled, drew his hand back, and extended a tentacle to spiral around Steve’s hand and wrist. “First we’d swim real close, get comfortable. Reach out. Four tentacles each, twining together in matched pairs. Then we’d relax and _feel_ each other.”

Bucky closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. Steve mirrored him, closing his eyes and exhaling, letting Bucky guide him into this intimate part of his life. He focused on his breathing, focused on the cool, soft, slightly wet feeling of Bucky’s tentacle against his skin, letting this be the only thing in his mind.

Steve gasped when, after a few seconds of stillness, he felt an almost electric tingle dance across his skin. His hairs stood on end. Bucky’s tentacle twitched, and he gave a little laugh. 

“Oh, that tickles,” Bucky said and Steve could hear the grin in his voice. “Your hair. I like it, it tickles.”

“Thanks,” Steve replied, opening his eyes. He felt his cheeks flush a little when he saw how pleased, how excited Bucky looked to be having this new experience. 

“Well,” Bucky continued, “if we both had tentacles and kept this up a bit longer, we’d probably both let out, but since it hasn’t happened for me yet, I’ll have to do it manually. Nothing against you, I promise.” His tentacle released Steve and his hand moved back to his groin.

Steve watched eagerly. He could feel himself growing hard untouched as Bucky’s fingers made short strokes over his slit, the scales surrounding it glittering in the moonlight and deepening in color. Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he gave a breathy little gasp as his fingers sunk into himself and the head of his cock poked out between them. He thumbed it gently, teasing himself out until there was enough for him to wrap his whole hand around. Bucky gave his cock a couple more quick, rough strokes before dropping his hand away so Steve could see.

“And there it is,” Bucky said, almost bragging. “Your move; how do _you_ like to do this?”

Steve climbed up onto his knees and scooted in closer to get a better look. Bucky’s cock was tapered, having a narrow, blunt point with no defined glans and widening down to a thick base emerging from the arousal-reddened lips of his slit. The underside of Bucky’s cock seemed to have a ladder of shallow ridges running from root to head. Steve reached out his hand to touch it, to feel for himself. He grinned—it _was_.

“Not tonight, but as soon as we get somewhere with decent lube, you are _absolutely_ going to have to fuck me with that,” Steve said, a trace of awe in his voice. “ _Ridges_ … how do you feel about frottage?”

“Very enjoyable,” Bucky answered. “Is that what you’d like to do now?”

“I would,” Steve said, dropping his voice back to a seduction-level purr, “but I’d like to kiss you first. Do you do that? Would you like that?”

“My kind doesn’t, but if you enjoy kissing, I would like to do it with you,” Bucky said. He ran his tongue lightly over his teeth. He knew what a kiss was… theoretically. His teeth were sharp, his lips thin with vestigial scales. The scales were pliant, but still scales. His kind’s mouths were not built for pleasure, but Steve’s? Steve’s mouth looked warm and inviting, his lips seemingly made for this.

“Well then, I’ll try to make a good first impression,” Steve murmured.

Telegraphing his intentions, Steve raised a hand to the nape of Bucky’s neck. He ran his fingers into Bucky’s hair and felt how different it was to his own hair, letting the flattened silky strands cascade over his hand. Bucky’s lips parted a little and Steve leaned in, meeting him in a slow, soft kiss. Chaste, but tender, lingering, with the hint that there could be so much more where that came from. Bucky tasted like saltwater and static electricity. Steve pulled away a little reluctantly; the kiss had felt a little odd but quite enjoyable. 

“Interesting,” Bucky said, placing his hands on Steve’s hips and pulling their bodies together. His breath hitched as Steve’s cock brushed against his. He ran his fingers through Steve’s fur, such a wonderful feeling as it flowed around his fingers. “I think I’m going to need a little more practice before I can make a judgement. What do you think?”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Steve replied. 

Steve rolled his hips, catching both of their cocks in one hand, and pulled Bucky into another kiss. As he nibbled gently on Bucky’s lower lip, he began a slow, smooth stroke of his fist, barely brushing their cocks. Teasing, tempting, promising so much more. As precome began to bead up, he brushed his fingers over their cockheads, smearing it down the shafts, easing their way. He tightened his fist and began to roll his hips. He gasped into Bucky’s mouth as their cocks began to rub against each other, the ridges lighting him up, desire threatening to flood over him like a tidal wave. He reflexively tightened his grip on Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s fingers dug into his hips; his tentacles wrapped around his back, tingling gently, coiling and twisting and caressing.

Steve came with a breathy moan, body shuddering. Bucky held him in a close embrace as he sagged into his arms. 

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you,” Steve mumbled as he caught his breath. He slid his hand down Bucky’s back, petting him with broad strokes and outspread fingers. He pressed his face into his neck, sucking a kiss onto the firm band of muscle below his jaw. He slipped his softening cock free from his grip and renewed his ministrations.

Bucky’s only reply was a hiss of breath and a sigh as Steve brought him over.

\------------------

“So… where do we go from here?” Steve asked, smiling sleepily and rolling over to look at Bucky as the rising sun began to filter through the trees.

“I’m not sure, but I’d like to go there with you,” Bucky answered with a smile.

Returning his smile, Steve gave a little nod. “I’d like that too.”


End file.
